


Ice Castles,the Fire of Life, and a Silent Sea

by RazeFire



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: AU., F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RazeFire/pseuds/RazeFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU for sure. An odd thought that occurred to me. As well as a few more that grew along with it. </p><p>What If Alicia had already known that Kalinda slept with her husband from the very first day at SLG? Got some encouragement from some prominent people on LJ and-BAM! Here it is. </p><p>Also, some BDSM elements in here. Along with some examples of bad play and questionable consent. Pictures taken without permission. If that is a problem for you, you are forewarned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alicia Cavanaugh loved sex.

**Author's Note:**

> A few things that stuck out to me amidst most of the K/A stories here. Namely that it's always Kalinda leading Alicia. Understandable, but the point struck me enough to want to write something where Alicia has a PAST. Where she's not so inexperienced. 
> 
> And then I started writing. And it went sideways and crooked and down alleys and just WOAH!
> 
> Some original characters.

Alicia Cavanaugh loved sex. There were a few brief moments in her life where she had not, primarily during the birth of her two wonderful children. For those minutes and hours she had sworn off of it forever, told Peter that he had better not dare suggest anything ever again. He had nodded his pale face as he urged her to push, his even more pale hand crushed in her own as she did. 

Her mother, despite her many flaws, had been open and honest about sex ever since Alicia’s first period. She had celebrated with a ‘girl’s day‘; taken her daughter to get her nails and hair done, gotten large sundaes at her favorite shop. Owen had howled when he found out, but her mother had just shook her head as he pouted over how it wasn’t fair. 

Alicia had turned an absolutely astounding shade of red when, a few weeks later, her mother had caught her in the bathtub ‘exploring’. She had thought that the water might boil away from her blush. But her mother had just said ‘Oh’ and turned right back around and reminded Alicia that the door did lock. It was still an awkward conversation but Veronica had somehow managed to convey that masturbation was a healthy thing, nothing to be ashamed of. 

Later still, as Alicia had made her own fumbling steps into the world of teenage boys, she knew that she could discuss it with her mother. Though it became harder as her parents split and the succession of her mother’s boyfriends began to blur together, Alicia had a good base to start from. It was ok to want sex, to like it. As her body grew, as her love/hate relationship began with the constant questioning of her self-worth and boys who would say anything to get into her pants, she kept her head. 

She had her heart broken, thought she would die by drowning in her own tears. Her mother and, increasingly, Owen were there to listen. She would repay Owen’s kindness later when he needed someone the most. 

By the time college rolled around, her grades were outstanding. Social activities and volunteering that her mother and father had strongly suggested she do through the years suddenly had a purpose. They made her applications sparkle. Accepted into Georgetown with a scholarship, her parents came together to cover the rest of her needs. And then she was free. 

It took her a semester to get her feet under her, to learn the lay of the land so to speak. To learn which frats were good for a party and which she would dump more beer onto drunks than she drank. It was sometimes a rough and tumble game, she learned to enjoy a meaningless fling while her mothers’ nagging voice reminded her to ‘be safe my darling girl. Always bring your own protection.’ 

To strike a balance was the hardest thing, her grades bounced between C’s that her parents worried about to A’s they crowed about before finally settling in the third semester as she found her stride. Alicia found her stride, she glowed with it. She liked herself, and loved herself. If someone else wasn’t loving her.

It was the loving herself part that taught Alicia something else new. She always remembered to lock the door but these old dorm rooms didn’t have the best locks. Taking a ‘study break’ in her shared room her roommate walked in and uttered a single ‘Oh, sorry’ before dashing off . Alicia just sighed, gathering up her clothes and quickly locating the beet red roommate. 

Rebecca had known what Alicia was doing, of course. She assured Alicia that she did it too, that she wasn’t grossed out or anything. “Really Alicia, it’s fine. I’ll just knock from now on. Really. Fine.” Rebecca had not had quite the education that Alicia had gotten, but her parents had covered the basics. With a side order of shame and embarrassed resignation.

Sitting on her own bed across from Rebecca on her own, Alicia thought about a few nights when she might have heard the blonde doing a little self-maintenance. And it had led her to some of her own. The thought itself had sped her heart and quickened her breath. The next week it happened again, leading Alicia to join her roommate in self love. It started innocently enough as they took baby steps into very nearly putting on a show for one another, a play of whispered grunts and the hiss of sheets bunched into clasping fists.  
They also seemed to ‘accidentally’ see each other naked quite a lot, until it became fully natural to walk about their room in underwear ‘because of the heat’. She found herself looking as well as enjoying Rebecca’s blue eyed gaze roving her skin, leaving traces of fire as they did so.

She still saw boys, of course. And Becca did as well, though not in the same places. They rarely saw each other outside their own room. And saw a lot of each other inside it. Freshman year ended before things went any further between them but Alicia always looked at that as the time she first acknowledged that she could be attracted to women.

In between boyfriends, Veronica took off on tears of spouting the leading feminist of the week, with lesbians being a great topic of conversation among her friends. It was now chic to ‘try it out’, with her mother encouraging her to ‘branch out’ if she ever had the opportunity. But she never once mentioned the other side of the coin even as Owen was going through his own struggles. Alicia, the dutiful daughter, bit her lip at both her own hypocrisy as well as her mother’s blindness.

Sophomore year saw a more determined Alicia. She knew some things about herself. Surprising things that she wanted to nail down. She had thought of being a lawyer as something a bit far off, but the year and the break solidified it for her. She was going to be a lawyer. Loading up on classes, thankfully without a real need for a job while in school, she found little time to date. Occasionally a fairly smooth junior law student would make a harried but well put together play for her attentions and she would slow down a bit for him to catch her.

But it was Valerie Collins that would sink her claws in. A graduate student teaching one of the few undergrad law classes Alicia could find open, Valerie was a woman charging forward on the path Alicia intended. The sophomore blew threw the class with ease, but always managed to find a question to ask “Valerie, or just Val even. Some even call me ‘that Collins bitch’ but I expect they don’t actually intend me to answer to that one.” 

The unexpected self-depreciation caught Alicia off guard and she gave a boisterous laugh as the rest of the class was filing out. As a graduate student, Valerie’s time was more self managed; more taken up by brief papers and scut work assigned to them by busy professors who couldn’t be bothered to actually teach the classes. But it left her some flexibility, time she spent steering Alicia to useful campus lectures as well as hangouts. 

It wasn’t quite a blow to the head when she realized that she was in a lesbian bar. She just hadn’t noticed the distinct lack of men as she and her now acknowledged mentor visited for the third week in a row. As she looked up from her book to take a breath and a drink, her eyes flowed from the furrowed brow of her companion to the mirror above the bar, catching only shadowed eyes and long nailed fingers flitting about sweating shot glasses. Her stillness caught the red head’s attention, who raised her own eyes to the sparkling honey brown orbs now wide open. 

“Surely you’ve noticed by now Alicia,” she scoffed. Even as her evil grin showed that she was pleased at managing to surprise the younger woman.

“”Uh, no. Nope. Hadn’t really noticed,” she choked out as she settled. She knew Valerie was grinning at her cluelessness and so refused to look directly at her. The creeping blush gave her away as her companion swatted the table. 

“Damn Alicia. I thought I had been obvious. “

Still ‘sipping’ her drink, her brunette waves swished with the nodding of her head. But her eyes again met those of her companion, sparking as they stayed there. It was Valerie who looked away this time as she reached for some of the nuts left on the table. Valerie was all but certain that her attentions were returned, or at least not unwelcome. She had noticed the redone mascara and just applied lipstick that had began to greet her with every lunch or study session she had with the sophomore. But other signals were lacking.  
She had to make a plain effort without scaring the prey off.

Her hand stayed extended even as she went back to reading her book, just inches away from Alicia’s.  
As they returned to studying their respective texts, neither seemed to notice the inexorable magnetic attraction their hands exerted. First brightly enameled nails clicking, then fingers drawn together, skating lightly over one another like drops of water. It was a game they were playing; ‘Who would look first?’ As digits began to intertwine, linking and unlinking again, over and under one another. 

Then something new, Alicia’s nails ran over first Valerie’s palm, and on to her slender wrists. Which earned a gasp from the woman and her eyes rose to meet the smiling pair opposite her. They both hurriedly took another drink, needing to moisten dry mouths. 

Noise from the busying bar intruded on the exclusive bubble they had formed, even as they reluctantly took in the time. Valerie could see the blush beneath Alicia’s collar as well as the tiny quiver of a raised pulse. Her face shown as well, which could have been the heat from the rapidly filling watering hole but wasn’t. Alicia’s looked pleased as, so Valerie could only guess that she showed the same effects. 

Still, there was no time to continue. They both had early starts in the morning. The grad student blew out a breath as they gathered their last few things. 

“Alicia-”

“Valerie-”

There should have been the sound of a car crash as their words collided. They shared another laugh, this one nervous and short. Alicia put her hand over her mouth, allowing Valerie to speak.

She nodded and smiled. “Alicia, what are you up to this weekend?”

“I don’t know Valerie, what did you have in mind?” It was the eyes that ensnared Valerie’s interest, those smoky green eyes that were smiling knowingly at just what she did have in mind.

Thus began the most educational experience of Alicia’s sophomore year.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was not the clichéd innocent fumbling and drunken kisses. Valerie was gentle at first simply because she knew that Alicia had not been with a woman. But Alicia pushed her with assurance; Alicia knew what she liked and wasn’t afraid to show or tell. That one of the things she liked wasn’t available with Valerie wasn’t an issue at the time and would later never be one. Valerie used the ironic nickname Mr. Tofu for her apparatus.

But this first time, they took their time. Went from the kissing and caresses all the way to straight up banging against the wall fucking. In those few hours Alicia learned how alike and how very different it was with a woman. Except a week later, when Valerie showed her something new again. And again. And again.

Val was always there with another thrill, another dare. She caught Alicia in a whirlwind and was caught up herself. Or so Alicia had believed. One of the many things Alicia learned was how little sleep she needed when she was being sexually fulfilled on nearly a nightly basis. Her grades slipped a bit, from A’s all the way to mostly B’s with a few classes and papers in the top tier. She was watching herself. Her natural gifts in arguments and logic served her well in lieu of actually memorizing the material. For a while.

Soon sex was a game with her mentor, ‘How many times could she come in a stairwell?,’ Valerie wondered. Alicia’s answer was eight within an hour, with Valerie’s ardent thrusts leaving her breathless with an almost bruised cheekbone pressed against the concrete wall. Val had stuffed Alicia’s satin panties in the sophomore’s mouth to quiet her as she rode out her orgasm.  
She had crowed out two of her own, the last loud enough to cause someone to investigate. Alicia had been going numb anyway, overly sensitized. 

Val ordered Alicia to make herself come in one of the classes the grad student was teaching over the next two weeks but not tell her which it might be. Val would have to guess. Two weeks later, Val guessed it was the first.

“Wrong Val. I came in all of them.”

Val had reacted with a wrenchingly possessive violence, breaking the zipper of Alicia’s jeans to find her soaking sex and jamming 4 fingers inside. Alicia bit her own wrist bloody to silence her full throated scream as she came. 

Her guide moved on, into darker territory. Restraints-Val didn’t bother with the silk scarves. It was rough jute that made Alicia’s breasts itch, leaving rope burns that she savored as the marks of lust. She found that she liked stingy rather than thuddy implements, which pleased Val as well. She liked the sharp swish of a crop over the loud pop of a paddle. But a hand could be both and were much more personal.

Her student would usually red out if Valerie slapped her face more once. A light tap with a finger was more than enough to recapture Alicia’s eyes and attention. Val could almost never bring herself to cover Alicia’s eyes, she enjoyed their changes as she challenged or pleased Alicia as she played sub.

And it was play to Alicia. She gave her submission freely to her mentor, willing and eager to try anything twice in case Val or she had done it wrong the first time. It was a good thing too, it took a second time for Val to find out how much Alicia liked the wax. She had dropped it much too fast before. That second time, with eyes still lit with their own light, Alicia had still held her breasts up pleadingly as first red then blue rained down on taut nipples. Of course, the remote Val held in her right hand helped as well, the buzzing toy leaving the younger woman on edge until the sting of hot wax tipped her over into oblivion.

Val’s control grew tighter. Her pet loyally did all she asked, even inventively engaged in whatever she desired. Alicia reported back that she had seduced Becca successfully, Val had thought that it was a shame that the two freshmen had never consummated anything. 

It was here that Alicia got her first clue, she checked up on Becca a few days later. She was dazzled by Alicia, smitten. It took the sophomore a few hours to explain that it had been a fling, hours that Alicia had to spend to ensure she didn’t send the girl into a tailspin of guilt and remorse.

Val was furious. But controlled. Val only yelled in her pleasures, her voice became stone cold when she was angered. The sharp and brittle shards of which Alicia was suspended over, up on her toes from a hook in the ceiling as the belt left it’s mark. The orgasm Val had forced out of her left her crying silent tears of confusion as her teacher left her on the cold floor where she normally held her as her sub came down. 

When Alicia pled the need to study at their next scheduled meeting, Val smiled and nodded, her eyes downcast. It had pinched her heart to let the look pass rather than soothe her domme. Rather than study, she made her way to another frat party where she got pleasantly tipsy as she schooled several of the male grads into a drunken stupor at the beer pong table. 

One of them, long and lean and really quite charming, was also attending law school. Alicia saw his eyes shade as she mentioned Valerie but thought nothing of it. He lost graciously as well, inviting her to a less raucous pot luck the frat would host the next week. His name was Will Gardner.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Alicia went back to Valerie’s, things went back to normal. Well, their normal anyway. Val scaled back the S&M until Alicia dumped the bag out on Val’s bed before she left for the day. She had to wear a hellacious number of bracelets to cover the rope burns and getting into a t-shirt the next few days left her gasping as muscles held in confinement protested their treatment. She smiled every time.

She saw Will at a few more events, she supposed that he had always been there but now she knew who he was. He was popular, athletic, and driven. Many young ladies thought themselves to be the future Ms. Gardner. He knew that Alicia was involved with Valerie so he never used more than a smidgeon of his charm on her. Sometimes, almost out of the blue, he would tell her ‘If you ever need anything Alicia, let me know. I know everybody.’

She laughed brightly. ‘I know, I’ve seen ‘everybody’ come on to you.’


	2. The Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't say I didn't warn you. BDSM elements and problematic consent ahead.

It was understood by both Valerie and Alicia that they couldn’t really see each other over the break. They had family expectations and obligations and generally a lot to do. And then there was that whole annoying thing about engaging in an alternate lifestyle. Alicia thought her mother and brother could handle it, her father not so much.

Back for her junior year Alicia fell right back into Valerie Collins’ arms. But something was different. No matter how Alicia pleased her or served her, her lover was distant. She wouldn’t talk about it so the junior law student did some discrete investigation. Nothing too invasive, she mostly just started paying attention. Valerie was getting phone calls that she left the room to take. The calls angered and even frightened the soon to be graduated lawyer. Alicia knew better than to ask about them; if Val wanted to discuss them she would, asking would only cause her to clam up.

It was a task that Valerie had set for her that led to the end. She was to clean and dust the small apartment Val had off campus clad only in a collar and locking 3 inch heels while wearing a chastity belt. Which held a vibrating egg inside of her. It was only on low, the vibrations would only tease Alicia for however long Val’s ‘errands’ took. 

She was more turned on by the nudity, the idea that someone could some and knock on the door and she’d have to answer wearing almost nothing. And the something she was wearing told another story all together.  
The dusting had almost been done when she stumbled over a throw rug, the feather duster sometimes used to tickle Alicia as she lay helplessly tied instead tipped over a bottle of massage oil left open. It dripped all over the desk Alicia had sat under as she massaged Val’s feet while she graded papers. It was usually locked and shut tight, but today the oil snaked into the cracked open drawer while the junior cursed and looked about for a cloth. 

She found a shirt, opening the drawer quickly to stop the spreading oil, only to be stopped by seeing her own face thrown back in ecstasy in black and white. Her hand moved of it’s own accord, sliding the first picture over to see the next. More of the same. 24 to be exact, all of her, all in her glory. 

There was a stillness about her mind, her nerves were icy cold. The buzzing inside of her was a distant thing as she puzzled out just where the camera HAD to be. Val’s apartment was cheap, as were most of her things. This ceramic monstrosity had stood out to Alicia, especially in the bedroom. She didn’t remember picking up the clunky Ma Bell phone but the satisfying CRASH it made when she smashed the lamp and exposed the camera had not freed her to do more than leave. 

It was the work of moments to find a pair of strong scissors, to cut herself free of the shoes and belt. The steady beeping of the off-the-hook phone caught her attention momentarily as she searched for her clothes and tennis shoes. A lightening strike of fury urged her to pick the phone up again and smash some more but she couldn’t really spare the time.

With her clothes on, she gathered the pictures, knowing that they were probably not the only copies. There was a manila folder under them with Val’s name on it. She undid the tabs, finding photos of the grad student in various compromising positions as well, a figure clad in black latex and a mask lording over her as she displayed herself. Alicia took them in a fit of pique, not thinking clearly beyond getting away.

 

She was out the door and down the stairs before she heard Val’s car pull in, it’s engine noise and squeaky door always let Alicia’s hungry body know that relief was on its’ way. Only now her body cringed even as she began to gasp.

‘No Alicia, hold it together. Just a bit longer.’

She couldn’t go to her dorm, Val would of course know to go there. And facing either parent was out of the question-it would take half a day to get there anyway. She had few friends, but Val knew them all.

All but one. But she didn’t know where he lived. The shield of ice protected her at the frat as well, though she could feel it beginning to show cracks, a quaking just underneath the surface. Her own rarely driven Mazda made its’ way quickly to the address given by a brother. She had said that ‘Will had forgotten something-’ the ‘at my place’ was just understood by the young men there.

The ice magnified his face, the charming smile and sly eyes. And as she drove she finally recognized the look in his eyes as he had said ‘If you ever need anything’; he had thought she just might. 

‘Well, he’s going to be right.’

He answered the door sleepily, just a pair of boxers and a towel in his hand. The eyes woke up as he identified the visitor. Her stone face alarmed him.

‘Alicia, are you alright?’

She nodded, the lie obvious. ‘Are you alone?’

Thankfully, he was.

He moved aside, arm sweeping gallantly behind as he ushered her to the safety of his living room. The crash of the ice echoed much like the destruction of the lamp in Alicia’s mind. She silently handed the grad student the photos, even as she began to concentrate on her breathing. Struggling to keep from gasping because that would begin an avalanche just as a shout in a snow banked valley would.

She heard him swear, looking up he swam through the tears welling in her eyes. ‘Jesus Alicia. I assume that these weren’t taken with consent.’ She shook her head as the ratty tie she had bunched her curly locks into let them escape. She continued to breathe as Will stood up, speaking the reassuring words that did nothing of the sort. He was on the phone the next time she was aware.

‘Yes sir.’

‘I understand.’

‘It looks’ he looked at her again. ‘Very bad sir.’

‘On my couch.’

‘Sir, I’m not sure- Yes sir. She’ll be here.’

He came back into her sight with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt on. She still held Val’s folder tightly in her hand. It was beginning to wrinkle as well as cramp her hand. He soothed her as he slid it away and opened the envelope. ‘Jesus. It’s her.’

 

He sat down again, closer to her as he spoke. It wasn’t his forte, attempting to be comforting. He was stilted and awkward which made it somewhat easier for her to accept his insistence that she lay down, she didn’t know what she might have done if he had been just as smooth in this as he was in the bars and parties. 

Her head had almost hit the pillow when the ice finally burst and the wailing began.


	3. Afloat on a Sea of Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mental breakdown ahead.

It was a delirium she swam through, Will steered her about as others moved in and out of the place. Her thoughts were fleeting little bits of wood and paper floating along in the roaring rush that filled her up. She knew there was a woman there as well, Alicia got a nurse/caretaker vibe from her working senses as the woman stood her up. Though she could see the steam, the shower felt so cold that Alicia reached for the hot handle, only for her hand to be intercepted by a calm but firm one from outside the shower.

The rumbling voice sounded matronly as the now soft hands washed her hair. No one had done that for ages and some small part of her rebelled at having this simple basic need filled by another. But the currents kept her away, stealing her warmth and will. She ate only when prodded, mechanically spooning pea soup to her mouth. 

I hate pea soup.

But she ate anyway. She tried to count the meals later but her memory failed her. From very far away came the thought that she should be concerned for the time, she had-

But the roar again stole the thought away as she sank. Her scattered bits floating about in waves and drifting currents, her own Sargasso Sea both holding her back and keeping her afloat. She knew the whispers were becoming concerned, her listlessness and lack of will leaving both Will others fearful for her condition.

It was almost the mention of her mother that brought her to the surface, the waters stirred only slightly. No one noticed. She slept and dreamed formless dreams of being chased and brought down. Eaten alive really. But no screams escaped her mouth.

The moment came when she heard a name. Several times she heard it, some with a venomous hatred, others spoke it in a wary whisper. 

Kimberly Annalise Tremblay. 

Kimberly Annalise Tremblay.

The bits swirled, they resembled the letter blocks children played with. 

K 

A

T

A whispered conversation Alicia wasn’t supposed to hear, Val had said the word as a curse.

‘Kat, damn you. She’s not there yet.’ Followed by the thump and click of the door closing. Alicia had only heard the call half-asleep and was pleasantly awakened just a few moments later.

The hoarse whisper escaped notice, forcing Alicia to swallow past unknown days of dryness and disuse. 

‘Kat. Kimberly Annalise Tremblay.’

Her whisper echoed in the sudden silence. 4 pairs of eyes focused on her as she sat up. She sought Will’s amber eyes, wide with surprise then suddenly smiling. 

“Alicia.”

The barest tug of a smile. “Will. Val mentioned Kat in a phone call I wasn’t supposed to hear. Is it her, in the latex?”

One of Will’s fellow students, Alicia was sure she had been told her name, stood up and sidled over gingerly. “I’m Anna, Alicia. And we’re pretty sure it is. But the latex-”

“You can’t see her face. But you can see Val’s.”

Will moved over beside the couch, squatting to meet her eyes. “Yeah Alicia. That’s it. The rest is…complicated. You can press charges-”

She shook her head. “No. What charges could I bring? Everything but the pictures was consensual. I did all this and much more willingly. Eagerly. What’s that trial going to look like?”

A third voice from the kitchen table spoke, someone she didn’t know. “A civil case then. Emoti-”

Will held up his hand to cut the voice off, even as Anna grew closer, holding Alicia’s hand. She squeezed it tightly at the thought.

“No, no. This is something… you guys have no idea. It’s big.”

His focus was back on Alicia again. “This is big Alicia. It’s not just you, not just Valerie Collins. Maybe not even Kimberly Annalise Tremblay is all of it. It’s… complicated.”

She couldn’t laugh. Not yet. Her throat was dry, she felt woozy and weak. And she felt tired. Real tired this time, the listlessness falling away with something to focus on.

Still, she wasn’t that far gone. 

“You knew?” His friends turned to face him, eyes wide. He shook his head in denial. “No, not exactly.”

He stood to pace, his lanky form oddly jerky in agitation. “No. But someone… a professor suggested that I keep an eye out for… things. If I had known…”

“I don’t even really know you Alicia, but I wouldn’t have just stood by and let this happen to anyone. It was just suggestions and rumors. People have been trying to… You’re the first that made it out. Most get too far in and then they’re stuck..”

She felt suddenly sick. It must have showed because Anna brought her head to a bucket just before she puked. 

When the retching was done the girl wiped her mouth, with light but sure strokes. “It was you, Anna. In the shower? With the soup?”

“Yeah, I’m a nursing student. I went out with Will a few times. He, he was never a jerk so I return his calls.”

She was sure she would have laughed .. Before.

Her hazel eyes went wide as a thought occurred. “Oh God. My Mom. You didn’t-”

“No. I thought… we thought that . It’s been a few days Alicia. But any longer and we would have.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. This thing… you’ll be allowed some room here. Make up work, access to whatever you need. “

She was too tired to ask more questions, her ragged brain unable to string them together coherently. But she knew that it was something.

Anna helped her up to the bathroom. In the shower she washed herself this time, adjusting the water from cold to almost too warm while the student nurse kept a careful eye. She had to hurry as her strength flagged.  
Anna waited with a fluffy towel and she could not object as she rubbed her down. 

“Would you like to eat before you sleep Alicia? We’ve still got some-”

“I hate pea soup. It reminds me of vomit. Doubly so just now.”

Anna even grinned slightly at that. “Chicken and stars or vegetable?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took the rest of the weekend for her to feel, well not normal, but able. She went back to her dorm room for some of her things. Anna went with her, gathering the notes pinned to her door. She shuffled through them, handing several ‘Where are you’s?’ and ‘You missed a quiz.’ notes to Alicia. Anna didn’t ask what to do with the others, just whisked them away into her bag. Johnny, Will’s other friend stood down the hall watching the stairs. It felt like a protection detail. 

“Back to Will’s?,” she asked. Anna nodded. 

“Just for a few days. Ms. Collins’ apartment has been cleared out pretty well. But she’s still on campus.”

Alicia gave a clipped nod and gathered her things.

When she came back she saw that the couch was new, it now folded out. And Will was laying on it. 

“Nope. No way. It’s your apartment. I’ll sleep out here.”

He gave a boyish grin and shrugged at the momentary fire shining in her. 

“Ok. So, I can tell you some things now. It’s complicated. Sick in some places. A smart and ruthless plan in others. You’re not the first. Can you handle it?”

A little steel crept in now.

She sat in the chair beside the bed, spine straight and eyes right at his. “Hit me Will. I can take it.”

He was right. It was complicated. And sick, both in what had been done and who had planned it. And, if you had no moral compunctions whatsoever, it was even elegant.

Georgetown. A shaper and finder of talent. The future lawyers, politicians, diplomats and civil servants that came here would be movers and shakers throughout this country and others in a few years. And everyone knew it. Certainly the FBI and other agencies watched as agents and agencies recruited here. But what Kat was doing with whoever she was working with was different. It was small, almost a boutique. 

 

She was focused almost exclusively on the law school. There were no links to any government. If she wasn’t spending so much money it would almost look like she had just come up with the idea herself. She did much of the recruiting herself certainly. And her hooks were exclusively sexual. She could find it or bring it out, the darkness inside of anyone. She nurtured it while poisoning the rest, until the victim could only get what they needed her way. 

It was a long term plan, a diverse field of talent, and quite secure. Most of it couldn’t even be proved. And it was pissing quite a few of the law professors off. It was well know and understood that they had their favorites, those they shepherded. It was often their own family, but sometimes just those they had seen something in that they wanted nourished. A few of them had spoken to one another at some faculty lunch or another and found themselves facing a similar dilemma. Their stars were suddenly veering away, some disappearing entirely. All of them promising students, bright and with talent or simply tenacious. All of them with little support, family far away or nonexistent. Most from ‘lower income brackets’.

Will spoke quietly, just the two of them at his kitchen tale. 

“You’re the only one Alicia. We’ve had an idea of how it works and who, but you’re the only one that’s gotten away with anything we could use.”

He slid the photos to her and she gasped.

“They belong to you Alicia. If you want to burn them right now, that’s up to you. Walk away, forget about this. Put it behind you. Whatever. I have no idea how you’re feeling right now.”

Alicia nodded, taking a drink from the water glass he had thoughtfully provided. 

“How I feel Will? I am frightened. I feel violated. And ashamed, because nothing she did was… I liked it all Will. I could switch it up, play the sub. Or I could hold the whip. Tie or be tied. The only thing wrong here is that she didn’t ASK me.”

The words barely made it past her gritted teeth. 

“I see all this, I hear you talking about a plan. An organization. And all I see is Val. Just Valerie Collins, graduate student. Working her little ass off teaching her professors classes in the day time, and spanking my own to a fine cherry red at night.”

Will was apparently past the point of being embarrassed by what Alicia liked. He just kept silent, letting her thoughts spill out. 

“I know her Will. I heard her on that phone. She’s just as caught as I would have been. There’s nothing here. It’s a sting without any sting. What do your… I don’t know… handlers want to accomplish here? Destroy Valerie? I… care about her Will. Even now. I don’t trust her, but I do care.”

Alicia shook her head, looking down at the envelope, surprised to find little round drops on its’ manila surface. She sniffled, hating herself for doing so. 

“I need to talk to someone who can tell me the end game here Will. And I need to get back to classes. I need to not have-” She waved her hands about her head theatrically. “ -this filling my head.”

He awkwardly put a hand over hers, as though he knew it was the thing that someone should do but he just didn’t get how or why. 

“Ok, Alicia. I’ll talk to some people.. We’ll figure something out.”

He slid her a slip of paper. “You’re new digs. It used to be a sorority, but it’s just a big rental house now. Off campus but covered under the plan. Well, sort of.”

She nodded again, accepting that she needed somewhere else to live and that this whole ambiguous and ethereal plan had a lot of friends on the campus. He carried her bag to his car and drove her there, each lost in their own thoughts.

 

She returned to class, to some stares from students of course. And each of the teachers or TA’s actually teaching the class asked to speak to her afterwards. Just like Will had said, every test or work assignment she could just turn in later, if she got swamped she could just speak to said teacher or TA and something would get worked out. It was actually a rather dazzling display of administrative power. She wasn’t THAT far behind anyway. Despite all the extracurricular fun she and Val had had-

And just like that she crashed again, her feet stumbled over the brick steps, spilling her notebooks everywhere. She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears as she gathered everything into her arms. She thought about just going back to her new room but instead trod on, her flats slapping the bricks into submission. 

The day ended with Alicia a shuddering wreck behind her closed and locked door, but the next one was better. Each day passed with little notice other than the exchange of assignments and filling out little bubbles on blue forms. Her last class before the weekend and she found Will in a nonchalant pose outside her door. It and the wry grin gave him a look of poise so perfect that she was sure he had practiced it.

She let him in with a wave and closed the door behind. 

“How’s it going?” She distracted herself from the inanity by contemplating his fine cheekbones and warm amber eyes. They took on a questioning look as she stalled.

“As if you didn’t know. I feel like the central character in a spy novel. ’Is that one of them, one of the ones looking after me.’ Jesus I need this to be over. And maybe I need a drink.”

She looked up hopefully, but he was shaking his head.

“Sorry, but I am here to bring you somewhere. You’re going to visit the King.”

“Oh Hell.”


	4. The King of Georgetown University

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An interesting idea I had, just a phrase that occurred to me and I found a use for it here. No warnings needed.
> 
> \---------------------------

It was an odd lie that contained something of the truth. It had probably started as a joke, the King of Georgetown University. That the classes and buildings and frats and organizations lent themselves so readily to comparisons of feudalism didn’t really help the joke die. It was a joke until it grew enough that it wasn’t.

It was, of course, a completely unofficial position. Not listed on any pamphlet or phone listing. A position of broad and deep influence subtly applied to simply keep the University running smoothly. One could pass through Georgetown and graduate without ever hearing the phrase in anything but a joke. Or one could get caught up in a shitstorm and find shelter under the hand of the King and his Court.

The trappings of the office were subtle, a nicely furnished office in one of the older buildings, a private room at a nearby club, standing reservations at any number of places. Phone calls always either put through immediately or promptly returned. 

The man himself couldn’t look less like a King. But he had the accent one would expect. Professor Franklin Morris Sanderson, Esq said the nameplate, as did the man himself as she entered alone. Will had ushered her to the door with a nod to the secretaries just outside and took a comfortable chair. That grin and simple gesture of the head could say a thousand things, this time only saying ‘I wasn’t invited to your audience.’

The King was a small, thin man of at least 50. Thinning blonde hair set in a style that probably hadn’t changed in 30 years yet it fit the man. His green eyes glinted behind steel framed glasses as he shook her hand then swept his to gesture to the overstuffed leather couch by a shuttered window. He sat only after she was settled. The room smelled of the old law books lining the shelves which Alicia appreciated as a book lover herself. 

“Ms. Cavanaugh. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She found her voice, dragging it along with her mind flitting amongst the stacks of law reviews and case studies lining the wall behind the desk. 

“Thank you for seeing me sir.”

The King served her tea by his own hand, from a tea service set that might have been on a trans-Atlantic steamer. It was his voice that she found the most calming. Despite the subject matter, the flowing hypnotizing upper class British accent never faltered. He exuded calm patience, his words gathered up in her ears and planted in her mind seeds of perseverance and ‘Steady on, steady on.’

He never referred to himself as the King, he took it as the joke it was originally intended to be she thought. But it was a necessary position. He served the needs of the institution and its’ students in things that no one really wanted any official notice to be had. He meted out a kind of justice that fit the quasi crimes and misdemeanors one shouldn’t have to pay for for life but could still have disastrous consequences for all involved. 

Alicia compared it to mediation, which he took in stride. 

“Something like that. I find that one side needs to be heard and another simply needs to be countered in some way. This is one of the more serious things I’ve had to deal with in my time of service. And it reaches farther than I would like to believe.”

He outlined it, adding that most of it was supposition and suspicion. Strong supposition and suspicions held by many of the administration. But nothing provable until she had wiggled out. And even that didn’t prove as much as they would like. He presumed that she wouldn’t insist on criminal proceedings, which she simply nodded ascension to.

“You are entitled to do so, of course. Even after what is accomplished here. The official arms of the University will still be available to you but I am sure you know what pitfalls lie that way. If you will allow, this will all be handled within the next day or two. You’ll be present for as little or as much as you determine.”

“Thank you sir. I understand.”

He paused to sip his tea, sitting back and crossing one leg over the other. 

“You have a concern about Ms. Collins, do you not?”

She looked down, her eyes only meeting his through the net of her wavy bangs. Her voice stumbled before she spoke, willing herself to speak it aloud.

“Yes sir. I’m… unsure as to the complete nature of Ms. Collins’ betrayal. I don’t know… Did she…?”

“You feel a need to know whether she felt anything for you at all or if it was simply a manipulation?”

She only nodded, busy with keeping back the stinging tears.

The man relaed a bit, sitting back in more comfort as he addressed a more personal topic.

“All of the eyes and ears and hands and tongues at my disposal and not one can tell which of those is true. That Ms. Collins was caught in the web is for certain, that it was intended that she ensnare you as well is not in dispute. But her motivations, her feelings remain beyond the view of any earthly power. Whatever happens tomorrow, that will be a quandary for you and she to puzzle out.”

She stayed silent for the moment, absorbing the words and feeling herself out.

“I understand sir. I want to see it through.” 

“Very good. I’ll see you here at 10:00 AM sharp Ms. Cavanaugh.”

The stately man rose, giving her hand a shake and a comforting pat before ushering her through his door again. Will was still outside. He looked up from his papers.

“So, what’s the verdict?”

“I’m coming back at 10 tomorrow, presumably alone.”

His eyebrows rose and he cocked his head to the side. “Ok.”

As they walked, he asked-”Was there a trumpeter or an announcer or something inside. A stately court with a marble floor and a jester in the corner?”

Her laugh echoed down the length of the hall.


	5. An Audience with the King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all like this part. I was kind of fun for me to write.
> 
> \----------------------

Alicia knocked on the door to Professor Sanderson’s office precisely at 10:00 am the next day. Having slept surprisingly well, she had briefly agonized over what to wear before simply deciding that court appropriate clothes would do. A simple wool knee length skirt with a cream blouse and some short sling back heels-she felt like this was her first actual court case. It was certainly nerve-wracking enough. 

She was surprised when Deborah showed her to a side room, where she could peer into the main office from a well-concealed one way mirror. She couldn’t recall seeing a hint of it when she had been in the office. The secretary brought her a bottle of water and set the lights, warning Alicia not to change them or the mirror would show through. She also set up a small speaker, presumable so that Alicia could hear as well as see what took place.

Kimberly Annalise Tremblay dressed every bit the high-powered attorney she knew herself one day to be. Her black hair cut in a short but stylish bob, her skirt just a bit lower than something that might not be so respectable. Alicia wondered if she actually needed the small square glasses perched on her nose. Her beautifully cut suit coat and blouse were worn as a suit of armor, the appearance making itself part of the viewers’ reality. Her walk with her long shapely legs ending on short heels did give something away, she almost stabbed the wooden floor with each step. 

Peering into the King’s office, Alicia could see that its’ character had changed entirely since her visit. It was now a much colder room, she thought. The full wall bookshelves giving the books the feeling that they might fall and crush the unwary. The poor lighting didn’t help, with only a few small lamps scattered about the room. There were shuttered windows that looked as though they had been nailed shut. One of the lamps shone on a small table and chair set before the enormous oak edifice the King held court from. 

He stood and came out to meet her as a gentleman should, taking her hand before returning to his desk. Though it had appeared to be somewhat far away from his working space, the smaller chair and table were near enough that either could easily speak or hand across documents. Alicia watched as Professor Sanderson’s sharp green eyes took in every detail. She had seen them before as warm and knowing, but looking at Ms. Tremblay she could only think of them as sharp and cunning. She was quite glad to not have that gaze resting on her.

“Ms. Tremblay,” he began with a slow sibilant tone.

“Professor Sanderson,” she returned dryly.

The pair were silent for a few moments, Alicia could feel the tension between the two despite the woman’s outward dismissal of it. Alicia knew that Kimberley was feeling it as well and willing herself to not attempt to fill the silence.

The King gave the ghost of a smirk before continuing. 

“I’ve always know him to pick good material Ms. Tremblay. It’s why I object to his activities so much. It is simply a waste to take such promise and put it to such gross ends.”

The woman did not speak, only cocked her head in feigned confusion.

“Oh yes, Ms. Tremblay, I am quite aware of your… mentor. And he of me. This situation is not the first time we have crossed paths and will most likely not be the last.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about Professor. I’m not even sure why I’m here. This isn’t any sort of academic review I’ve ever heard of. And you occupy no official position in the school’s administration outside teaching. Yet I was ‘strongly encouraged’ to attend this meeting by no less than 3 of my professors’. “

He smiles, folding his hands over a manila folder on his desk.  
“Well, Ms. Tremblay, you are here because you are running a-well, I think of it as a privately sponsored intelligence operation on the Georgetown University campus. And you’ve finally been caught at it. You and your benefactor have angered enough powerful people and been connected to some rather sordid affairs around it as well. Once I and others were finally able to connect the dots together for those people…

Well, I don’t have to explain how influence works to you, do I Ms. Tremblay?”

Alicia saw the woman’s pose change immediately. If there were a dictionary with the phrase ‘naughty school girl gets caught’ in it, Kimberly Annalise Tremblay would be its’ picture. Even her voice matched, breathy and slightly higher as she exclaimed-

“My word Professor, that sounds serious. Surely something like that would be investigated by the police.”

The gentleman ignored the carefully constructed act as though it never happened, instead pointing to the folder on the desk to her right. She opened them carefully, touching only the edges of the pictures within. 

“In this city and under these circumstances, Ms. Tremblay, those investigating would most likely be Federal Bureau of Investigation special agents. I have some friends there, friends that were able to run detailed facial recognition analysis on those photos. That is you in the photos Ms. Tremblay, with Ms. Collins.”

Her cool eyes looked over the photos, then back up to meet the steady gaze of the Professor with one of her own. “It looks at though I’ve been engaging in some kinky sex and photographed it Professor. Why would the FBI be bothered to analyze anything about it? It was entirely consensual.” Her coy smile left the man unmoved.

“Yes Ms. Tremblay. How amusing. Surely you young people invented kink. The data points would have not been so clear if you hadn‘t used latex. Sometimes classic leather is best.” His drool tone and stone features gave no doubt that he had seen such things many times before.

“No doubt you use your mind and body to put your…partners in whatever frame you choose to. But when photos like these-” he added as he handed over another folder. “find their way to the doorstep of a Senator along with a suggestion that he pull his support from a bill, then it becomes something different. And since we have no one else to connect the photos to, you would be held solely responsible.”

Alicia could now see some doubt creeping into the woman’s near flawless face. But she schooled it well, quickly shuffling through the pictures provided. She expected the woman to protest that the photos had been taken without her permission or were stolen, but instead she quietly folded her hands and looked again to her accuser.

“So why am I here rather than an FBI interrogation room? I imagine you want something from me? I can spare you the trouble of asking. The answer is no.”

Unsurprised, the leaned back again. “Of course Ms. Tremblay. You know his reputation. And despite his rather recent start in the accumulation of power, he could get to you if you did testify. I knew him back when Ms. Tremblay. I know who and what he is. I’d no sooner ask you to testify against him than I would put a bullet through your eye myself. Both would result in your death and leave me equally guilty.”

Alicia flinched at the simple bald statement, reflecting on how little she actually knew this man. The woman opposite of him did not. She almost got whiplash from the change of direction in conversation as he spoke again.

“You’re due to graduate soon I believe.”

The grad student nodded woodenly. “Yes sir. Next year.”

He nodded sagely, looking over another sheet of paper. “No, I think it will be this year Ms. Tremblay.”

The woman’s eyes grew as she considered his statement. He simply waited as she considered it. It took a few moments for her to put it together. Alicia had only understood a moment earlier, but she wasn’t the woman facing the King’s wrath. 

“I see sir. And when I graduate…”

His steely gaze met her now cowed eyes as he continued. 

“I’m sure this will all be behind you. You’ll find success wherever you go. I understand your benefactor has interests throughout the Midwest as well as Canada. I’m sure he would be happy to turn talents in those directions.”

“I understand sir. Thank you.” Dismissed with a curt nod, she nearly stumbled in her heels before righting herself. She absently dropped the folder on the desk then visibly shook her head, returning to her earlier stride as she exited.

A few moments later Alicia was joined by the Professor in the small ante-room. Her admiring gaze left little room for her to object.

“I get it Professor. She has fallen from presumably a top percentage of her class to graduating lower in this years’ . As well as, well, being exiled I guess would be the correct term.”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a pleased nod. “She was on track to be, perhaps third or fourth in her class. In those heights the precise ranking matters little. Now I imagine she will end up somewhere in the middle, maybe the top third if her…mentor cares to spend the time and energy to get her the help she will need.”

She stilled sharply, frozen at the thought. “ Help, sir?”

He shook his head at the amusing thought. “Oh no, she won’t cheat. He won’t allow it. He has an odd idea of fair play. Cheating in school is right out.”

The pair sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. 

“Her benefactor is gathering a power base, he’s been trying to expand into top-tier universities throughout New England. Thanks to the efforts of a few like minded people we believe this will be the last attempt for a while. He’s burned up much of his initial political and monetary capital, he’ll have to start earning more before he attempts further operations.”

She had finally had enough, her fist coming down on a couch cushion did not have the gravity she would have liked as she exploded. 

“Who is HE!! You’ve managed to make him sound like a secret agent or something. Nefarious, unknowable and dangerous. I would really like to know who this guy is, who nearly ruined V-mmy life.”

She pulled out the wrinkling she had put into the couch as he answered, her hand smoothing it over and over.

“While I understand your frustration, I think it best if you don’t know. It’s quite likely you may run across him again if you continue to make the law your profession. It is better for all concerned if you forget about him so that, if you do meet, he sees you only in that context. He doesn’t respond well to those he senses have a hidden agenda, he tends to lash out drastically out of proportion to the perceived slight.”

 

Alicia nodded again, not trusting her suddenly constricted throat as her bangs hid the swelling tears. She couldn’t hide the sniffle, though the King was kind enough to ignore it while she regained her composure. 

“Thank you sir.”

He nodded, then moved closer, awkwardly patting her knee as if he knew that was what one should do rather than feeling that he should. 

“As for Ms. Collins, I’m afraid she has left the University. She hasn’t returned home nor has she been found by his people. She would be welcome to return but I believe we shall never see her again.”

“So now I just… move on. Leave thing as they are. I don’t know if I can do that.”

The Professors’ lips stiffened as he sighed. 

“You can Ms. Cavanaugh, in fact you must. You will move on because to live is to move. You may drop out, you may pursue an education as far removed from the law as possible, you may end up a waitress in Peoria, Indiana. But you will move on; the only other choice is to lay down and die. And that is not something I see in a woman who made it this far after such a betrayal.”

Alicia momentarily blanched at the King’s vehemence in regards to her future. With a small shake of the head, she stood. Professor Sanderson quickly followed. She took a few steps, turned, and executed a flourishing curtsey with an irreverent smile and a swish. He responded with a joyous clap and a brief bellowing laugh.

‘After all’ , she thought, ‘should not even the King be given moments of merriment?’


	6. Alicia Florrick Loved Married Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight kink in here, mostly mentions of subtle power exchanges. Nothing more than might happen in a usual all-American heterosexual relationship. :-P

Alicia Florrick loved married sex. She had loved sex with Peter before she married him, of course. It crossed her mind that she wouldn’t have married him if she hadn’t. Or at least, if his efforts couldn’t be improved. 

But as they were, after the first few times, they had found their own rhythm. She enjoyed being in his powerful grasp, his size and strength dominating her even as his touch and gaze revered her. They fucked more than they should have, skipping study groups and discussions that were vital to a 2nd year grad students’ progress. 

She had had a self-imposed dry spell for a while there, after returning for her senior year. With Will in his last year, both busy with studying and Alicia being gun shy about jumping into something, it seemed that they just never hit their stride. He was fun, they had some chemistry both in dating and in the bed room, but she was always aware of the circumstances he had found her in. All in all both had chalked it up to simple ‘bad timing’. She had seen him off at his graduation. Watched his natural ascension to 6th in his class- he hadn’t been willing to ENTIRELY give up a social life as the first 5 had. 

By the time her own graduation came around, he could see that her heart was taken. It was a thought that kept him awake for a few nights over the years, but more and more his thoughts were of business and building a empire.

She’d met Peter the last semester of her senior year, ironically on a date with a woman from her last history class. He hadn’t a clue that she had been on a ‘date’ date, she only told him that she had enjoyed the company of women after they’d been together ‘officially’ for their first year of grad school. He had been introduced to her parents before he knew about that.

And never, not ever, was anything mentioned about Valerie Collins or Kimberly Annalise Tremblay. 

‘Living in sin’ as her mother laughingly put it, for their last two years at Georgetown, Peter and Alicia had learned to be a couple. Their strengths and weaknesses complimented each other. Even their studying fit, often taking the same classes or at least covering the same material. 

But, Oh Lord, the fights they could have over them. She was much more liberal than he, with his father being a prominent judge in Chicago and her mother very nearly the epitome of a flower child. They got into rows, they fought tooth and nail, and their arguments in classes and papers were all the sharper for it. 

As was the sex. She sometimes questioned the wisdom of living with Peter, with their passions so easily riled up by either arguing or simply being so close. They had to make an effort to go out, both together and separately, to keep from either tearing each other apart or making love to exhaustion. Keeping friends, a relationship, and a heavy course load was an exercise in spinning plates. Having someone else there to cajole, encourage, frighten, or sucker into doing the work brought them through.

She found herself again, found the balance she had learned to see in herself. They had frozen up the first few times Alicia had taken the reins, with her still unsure and Peter not understanding what was being given to him. With his role being so ingrained in his psyche he didn’t even know he could have a need to let someone else be in charge; it was up to Alicia to see that his ‘exhaustion’ and ‘frustration’ were symptoms of something she knew how to cure.

She started with traditionally comforting things. She waited in the bedroom in a silk robe with a bottle of oil. As he came out of the shower , drying himself she watched him idly, his lean frame and broad chest quickening her breath. She held onto that tension as she spoke.

“Stop,” she said as he pulled out a shirt and some boxers. He froze with a quizzical expression, underwear in each hand. He saw a towel on the bed and Alicia in a robe.

“I’m kind of tired Alicia.”  
She smiled. 

“I know Peter. Lay down on the towel so I can give you a massage. You don’t need those, they’ll stain with the oil.”

Locker room instincts warred with his conservative morality as he considered how to cross to the bed. He chucked the clothes into the air, shrugging as they fell to the floor. Alicia thought that the few steps he had to take were made with a bit of exaggerated swagger.

She put the lights out, lighting candles as she moved. Peter squirmed a bit before settling. Alicia made sure to make a bit of noise as she moved to the foot of the bed, the cap of the oil popping as she opened it. 

She started at his feet, with a sure and steady touch to keep from tickling. He still gave a few fluttering breaths until her hands began their work. She felt him tense, presumably to try to talk, but she shushed him. 

“Quite Peter. Just enjoy it.”

She had read a few books on massage and V- some of her lovers had enjoyed it. Her hands quickly fell into an accustomed technique. She had several to employ. This one started with relaxation and ended with both parties VERY relaxed.

Moving up, her hands moved from purely massaging to some teasing motions along Peter’s thighs. She could feel him struggling to remain relaxed, so she muttered as she ran her fingers up and down again.

“Relax Peter. Accept my touch and the feeling behind it.”

Her mother was always going on about ‘energy’ and ‘chakras’ which Alicia had her doubts about. But simply concentrating on where nerves were bundled and keeping her mind on where and how she was using her hands seemed to do much the same thing. She kept her thoughts on Peter as she stroked, allowing herself to go with images of his strength as she began to heat up further. 

He was breathing slowly and evenly, finally relaxing entirely into what she wanted to do. Now she would change it up again as she moved up, straddling his lower thighs to rub his back and shoulders. And removing her robe entirely.

He wasn’t sure she had until he felt the tips of her hard nipples skate across his oil slicked skin. Though he kept himself still, still relaxing into her massage, she knew the moment he had caught on, a new intensity hummed through his body. But he stayed under her control, as she had hoped. 

She moved to his powerful shoulders, her hair wisping over him as she moved to sigh into his ear.

“Handsome. Strong. Beautiful. And all mine Peter.”

She was sure there was a new source of stiffness in him as well, something she would address later. She could feel his need to take over, but her continued ministrations kept him bound. Her hands used stronger strokes with the palms and heels of her hands over the larger muscles now, while her fingernails became more playful along his sides and the nape of his neck. His breath sped and he nearly spoke, but she shushed him again.

“I want this my way Peter. In my own time. And I’m going to get what I want.” She reinforced this with some of the harder strokes along his shoulder blades and spine, muscles there seemed especially tense so the added pressure was needed. And it served the purpose, withering Peter’s resistance.

He took a shuddering breath and released it slowly. 

“Good,” she replied as she heard him.

Her fingers now stroked his neck in earnest, deliberately turning them both on as she breathed in his scent. She was warming up quickly, the heat building up in her abdomen and points south. Peter could feel it as well, taking comfort in the knowledge.

She languidly dragged her body over him as she slipped back down to the foot of the bed and he groaned. She almost giggled; he was rarely vocally responsive except when they were very actively joined. He could speak, he could be quite inventive in his use of language to spark her libido. He would say the most ribald things to her, not even whispering them in her ear, just a low voice pitched for her ears alone in a crowded room. Even in the midst of sex he would growl at her, she had to prompt him to actually speak. 

To hear him volunteer an expression of contentment or even longing was much more rare. She usually had to have him in her mouth to hear its’ like. 

“Roll over,” she commanded. He did, finding that she had spread another towel beside him. His eyes remained open but only just, regarding her in flickering candlelight as the oil shone on her own skin. His heart lurched strongly as he took her in, the primitive part of himself nearly causing him to leap up and claim her as his. But she was moving too quickly, already astride his shins, her hair obscuring her face as she continued the massage. 

Long and lean thighs led her hands to his hips even as her head naturally centered over his hard length. She didn’t tease him, not yet. She could see it leap with each beat of his heart. Despite her intentions, her breath skimmed over his hard cock as she moved further up to press his abdomen. His breath hitched in answer and she soothed his tension with a soft ‘Shush’. Her lips brushed a quick kiss on his left hip as she slid on.

Carefully she straddled his left thigh as her hands roamed his sparsely covered chest. His eyes were entirely on hers as she continued. She watched as his hands clenched and unclenched as he breathed out again, fighting himself to remain acquiescent. He closed his eyes to remove one source of temptation only to find this magnified the rest. 

His knees jerked as Alicia took up his left arm, kissing each finger with a bit of tongue as she placed it on her shoulder to rub down the biceps and triceps. He could hear her breathing faster through parted lips as she moved to the other side, straddling his right thigh and massaging the right arm. He tried to be a little coy here, reaching to caress her cheek and neck as she did so. Her heard her hum in appreciation even as she bit his forefinger in retaliation. He thought her fingers might be trembling as she continued though she didn’t speed up.

She was slick on his thigh now, her sex crying out to be filled. She captured her frustration, bottling it up as she ministered to muscles now fully awakened under her skilled hands. Delicately she traced over his collar bones and on to his neck with swollen red lips. Her mouth was at his ear when she murmured- “I think I’m going for a ride now.” 

Before he had even understood her she was on top of him. But he was not inside her. Her heat and slick center grinding on his hard length, soaking it as she slid along. Slowly she flowed , her hips controlling the length of each stride as her eyes pinned him in place. Fascinated with this new thing, he sat still as she used him to literally rub one out. 

She knew that it would not be as intense an orgasm as she could have with Peter. But she wanted him to see her, see her come and not be so bound up along with it. He watched amazed, answering her cries with choked whimpers and swearing under his breath. Then she was there, caught up in the dance as she stroked herself along him. He almost came along with her, it was a close run thing. 

Her eyes sparked with her pleased nod as she came down. His hands were on her thighs, squeezing hard enough that she might have bruises tomorrow, but he was still under her spell.   
With a sigh she lifted up slightly, only to come down again with him inside. His cock was high and hard and deep inside her. So wet he was all the way in before she could even breathe and the rest of her air just rushed out of her all at once. Breathless she collapsed over him. His hips surged up as his hands found her hips. 

She growled, her nails on his chest reminding him that she was in charge. As did her sudden push down again as she rose up. Her green eyes wide and dark on his as she rode him. She put her hands over his on her hips briefly before moving them up to her breasts. Peter caressed them lovingly until she squeezed his hands harder. She bit her lip and moaned as he gripped them tightly, her pointed nipples caught between his fingers.

She moaned louder still as he understood her need, his fingers pinching the nipples tightly. She ground herself on him sharply at that. His right hand grabbed her ass, built just right to be manhandled, his nails scoring it. 

“Don’t I feel good Peter? Fucking you, taking your hard cock deep inside me? It feels-Oh Damn, it feels so hard inside of me.”

He could see her starting to peak again, reading the tell tale flushing and the hitch of her hips. Her nails bit his chest and arms as she sped along. He met her with a push of his own, causing a sobbing gasp to rise. Her pants grew faster and closer together as she neared her end. Peter was enraptured by her, her beauty and simple joy at this most basic pleasure. She gave herself up to it, always. Every time she was unabashed and unafraid, she knew herself to be beautiful and desired beyond price in these moments. And he was awed by it. How could he not do whatever she asked of him, this small simple thing?

She screamed as she came, his name echoing off the cheap plaster walls. He followed as he felt her sex grasping at him, stroking and caressing unconsciously as Alicia had done with such careful thought. He gave her what she wanted, what she had demanded. And was all the better for it.


	7. Court, Marry, then Crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A family built and a marriage subtly neglected. Alicia sees the peril just a bit too late.
> 
> \------------------------------

She was never ashamed of her performance in the bedroom but Alicia regarded him with silent intent as she stumbled into the tiny kitchen. He was making scrambled eggs and toast, not an uncommon occurrence on their rare late weekends. He had already doused his own plate with Tabasco, leaving her eggs with only salt and pepper as she liked. 

She had been prepared to talk about their night, but Peter appeared to not need any explanation or reassurance so they ate in silence, going over papers. One hand linked to the other after they finished their food. 

It was a few days later that they discussed it, rather Peter pointedly asked her what she fantasized about. A sex life that had already been good and occasionally great from there became really good to outstanding as she learned what his trust could provide her. And he finally took to heart the idea that Alicia really did enjoy a certain roughness whenever he might want or need to give it. It was unfortunately one of the things he would forget later in his life and she would find that enthusiasm waned in the face of obligations to children and family. 

The start of their 3rd and last graduate school year promised to be memorable. Both for the course load as well as for personal reasons. Peter proposed the last day of the break before his family at a dinner party. He had phoned her mother to ask her opinion but she had been unable to make the trip. His mother Jackie had never been very impressed with Alicia but seeing that her son would not be dissuaded she had acquiesced. 

Alicia had not even opened the box before saying yes but was suitably impressed when she did. Jackie explained that it was an heirloom ring, being passed down through the family. She had thought that Peter might wait until after graduation to do something like this, but Alicia found herself dizzyingly happy as she stared at the antique ring, a symbol of Peter’s family history. A history she would soon add to with him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After graduation they had, of course, both returned to Chicago. Peter worked at the Cook County States’ Attorney’s office which she recognized as a foot in the door along the way to a political career. She herself got a job as a first year associate at Crozier, Abrams, and Abbott. Living in a cracker box apartment in Garfield Park that neither of them saw much of. Peter proved to be a fast learner at the States’ Attorneys’ office, helped along by some of the men ahead of him being mired in typical Chicago scandals. 

He had the family name as well, which did help. His mother was embarrassed that he and Alicia had chosen to live in such a cheap neighborhood, but Peter had been adamant that they would live where both he and Alicia could afford to on their earnings. 

On the rare nights they did make it to bed with some energy left, they tore into each other with a passion. As much as she had believed herself to be giving to partners in the past, nothing compared to the depths she could plumb with her husband. She would and did enjoy restraints, but found them distracting when the simple strength and intelligenceof her husband could provide so much more excitement. His creativity proved to be a match for her own, as did his daring. Posh parties that he simply HAD to attend were suddenly opportunities for Alicia to discreetly deposit her panties in his inside coat pocket. Tight fitting skirts which hid snap garters left her free to be fingered as the lights dimmed for a presentation at some awards banquet or another. 

They both learned how to fight, and in learning Peter also picked up on just how Alicia picked fights to rile him up and which she actually meant. He sometimes flipped it on her, when she got a mad on over some forgotten chore or slight he would stalk silently into her. He towered over her when she was out of heels, his hand suddenly in her hair. Not pulling, but a reminder that he could. Most of the time it worked, her rapid heart beat speeding the heat of her body as he held her.

Of course, the times that it didn’t work usually earned him a slap to his jaw and a night on the couch. But it was worth it. She was much more subtle in her manipulations, fuming when he did catch on. Her contrite kisses and a weakness in her knees found her on the floor before him, hands quickly moving to his belt. If he grabbed her hands and pushed them away she took it well, her pleas to make it better earning her a reward. It was when he walked away that she knew she’d gone too far. He either would spank her later until she was sore in the morning or simply give her the cold shoulder. The spanking made her wet and hurt less, she learned more from the being ignored.

A bonus Alicia earned for making a billing hours target gave them a bit of extra money which they agreed to spend on a trip to Jamaica for their anniversary. Alicia booked it herself, using a travel agency. The young lady she and Peter had seen assured her that she could accommodate most any request and was not shocked at all that when Alicia called back and strongly implied she might want to find another woman to share with her husband. A discreet business card in her passport package was the only sign left.

Unfortunately this trip gave Alicia something of a bug and led to the next great change in her life. The antibiotic course given to her by the hotel doctor was not noted in her records. Alicia’s birth control was rendered ineffective even as the bug put her off of her planned surprise. Zach would be born eight and a half months later.

In later years a more cynical Alicia would consider just how quickly Peter’s career would take off just after the baby was born and wonder if Jackie had pulled a few strings. But the joy the new member of their family brought to them both filled whatever small hole her stay-at-home status made in her psyche. A daughter a few years later, Peter standing for election and losing the first time, then winning the next, it all sped along so wonderfully. Her life was full, his life was running full steam ahead. If sex and desire tended to be left by the wayside, there would always be time to pick them up again. They resorted to making appointments, scheduling baby sitters and Jackie taking the children for a bit as they ‘reconnected’. 

Alicia had thought she wasn’t missing anything, that her heart was so full of wonder and joy that she didn’t even consider another path. Until the crash came, shattering that heart full of joy and peace into a million tiny pieces.


	8. Alicia Gets the Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No sex here. And I like the way the notes section formats. And it's pretty short.

It wasn’t ice this time. It was fire that stole her breath and thoughts. She knew she couldn’t afford to check out, she had children. She hid it behind a screen for them, they of course knew that she was upset and things did slip through, but mostly the fire was for herself. And Peter. 

It was weeks before she could even see him without being blinded and struck dumb by the absolute rage that his face brought up. And if she had foolishly thought that seeing him face a trial would be cathartic she was proven wrong just as quickly. It extended the time reporters camped out on her lawn, the phone calls that continue no matter how many times she changes the number. The anger and fear and confusion her children brought home with them everyday. 

She relived the press conference in her dreams, followed up by her slapping Peter in the hall way. Only in her dreams she drew blood, in the very darkest she wept as she crushed and stabbed and choked the life out of him. 

Owen helped as best he could, which was surprisingly well considering that they had stopped seeing each other so much with his teaching job in Oregon. He stayed a week, alternately getting her drunk at night and feeding her and the kids the newest organic craze in the morning. Jackie took the kids that last weekend and, after going through two bottles of wine with a little help from Owen, she finally broke down and cried. Mourned , really. Trust had died. She couldn’t see any way that it would come back, be revived. 

That Monday, she called the lawyers. Finding some time between depositions and meetings and the kids’ school she was to meet with him. A private conference room at the hotel he was staying in. 

He was tired, that was the first thing she noticed. Despite the pressed suit and the well-kept hair, she could see it around his eyes. A part of her longed to brush that hair back and take his head in her arms…

She brutally suppressed it. She was here for a reason. She needed something, something to help her gain some distance. The sex tape was blowing up all over the news, a fresh round of embarrassments for her and the children. But the implications made on the tape were far more cutting to her than the actual deeds. Amber Madison had made her doubt something she had rarely confronted before.

In truth, with all she had done with and without Peter, what he did with the prostitute was urbane. Common. But the thoughts behind them, those were what bothered her.

So she demanded answers. From the only one she could get them from without possibly committing murder. Her husband.

She started as though it were a deposition. She was clinical and direct in her questioning. She didn’t allow herself to dwell on the answers just yet. Just the facts here. Thoughts and feelings later. Her buzz saw glare after he tried to tell her she didn’t want to know was enough. He talked.

Question: How many times were you with the prostitutes?

Answer: I’m not sure. 15 maybe 20.

Question: How much did you pay them?

Answer: $3500. I recently found out that I wasn’t supposed to pay them at all. It was a bribe and blackmail material all in one. They paid the girl. And then I did.

So she dragged it all out of him. Part of the why was of some interest, when she could regard it without blinding hatred. So many talking heads on TV and the newspapers all subtly implied that she was, in some way, unsatisfactory in bed. The fact that men are not that particular when presented with an opportunity is never really factored in. Some men resist, some don’t. They don’t have to be unhappy in their marriage to cheat. The combination of availability and a momentary lapse in judgment is enough. 

But even that wasn’t enough for Peter. He had another reason.

It was expected of him. 

At his level of politics, the men (still mostly men) holding the reins of power needed to know that the man they were moving up the ladder was just like them. Just as vulnerable to certain manipulations, that he had just as much to lose as they did. Oh, it could be done in other ways. In other places. 

But this is Chicago. A city understood to be run on nepotism, cronyism, and dirty politics. A machine that crushed the unlikely diamond in the rough without mercy. Not that Peter had been all that pure, but no more dirty than a few gray areas. This was something he had to do in order to advance.

At least, that was how he thought of it. Alicia couldn’t bring herself to consider it, especially when he insisted that he wasn’t trying to make excuses. She had asked why, he wanted to give the clearest reason that he could. 

But there was something else, something he was shielding from her. She poked around in her questioning for a bit, asking about his ASA’s. About the cases he may have bent a bit. No, not there. Something… he shifts when she mentions the investigators. She was a lawyer. She IS a lawyer. It’s part and parcel to pick up on those tiny hesitations and pounce. 

And Alicia was a good lawyer, highest billed hours of any associate at Crozier, Abrams, and Abbott. She could cajole a witness, hand hold the client, browbeat a hostile prosecutor. She put those skill to good use. He told her the name of the another woman, not a professional And then it was done.


	9. The Truth is often had with a Guilt Chaser. And a side of pain.

She is on the outside, looking in at herself and Kalinda Sharma sitting at the bar. She sees the nervous eyes and fluttering hands of the newly returned attorney as she waits with the cool and collected investigator. An SLG tradition, you say.

Lick, Sip, Suck, *Slam*. Oohh, that burns just the way she remembered.

Of course she knew Kalinda was lying about it. She knows Kalinda is lying about a whole lot. But she still laughs when the smaller woman confesses. It’s a thin veneer, this laughter and smiling and…oh my. Flirting even. It’s been a while since she’s been subtly but effectively hit on by a woman. And she reacts, her body remembering the feel and look of it. Betrayed by her own body, bounced about by alcohol and a seemingly genuine moment among colleagues. It may be the first truthful laugh she’s had in months.

This must be why she has such a reputation. She’s charming, witty, and comfortable in her own skin. Later Alicia will curse herself for falling under her spell, but for now… For a few moments the iron ball that lived in her gut unwinds as she smiles and nods. She curses herself for it later in the privacy of her mourning bed.

The jury comes in for acquittal even as Glenn Childs issues warrants for the brother. Matan is there tap dancing for the cameras, blaming the ‘Peter Florrick administration’ and its’ corruption. For a moment Alicia lets the fire loose, to burn a scathing comment out at the new States’ Attorney. But is quickly reined in, left to sleep in her heart.

She should have resisted. She easily could have. But Alicia had genuinely needed the unearned and unasked for help the woman gave her. And now it was over, she had won. Cary had been fired, not her. Her relief had been tempered by the sadness that it truly had been him or her. He said not a word as he stoically strode out of the office and to the elevator.

The other source of angst, frustration, anger, and other assorted feelings was awaiting her as she left. Kalinda Sharma, cool and collected as ever even as the firm was dropping employees like flies, leaned casually against the wall regarding her with a spinx-like gaze.

“Do you have your keys?”, she asks.

Before I knew it I found herself two shots in, another Stern Lockhart Gardner tradition. To avoid what I know I should be talking about I instead wonder aloud if Will gave me the job because we dated way back when. She assures me that he still feels the same way, but I guess she doesn’t know as much as she thinks. It never really got started with us. Did it? How can he be hung up on someone he saw in such weakness? It was fun and a bit healing for me, maybe it WAS something more for him.

Reaching for another topic, I blurt out-

“Are you gay?”

I ask because I’ve seen her flirt with men and I know she’s interested in women. I could read some interest on her part. Which was admittedly flattering as well as maddening. So many facets of her and I can’t hate them all as I should.

She gave a typical Kalinda answer.

“I’m private.”

A drunken best man interrupts, which Kalinda sends packing efficiently. Gratingly she does so at my expense, airing my laundry while hers stays neatly folded and no doubt starched and ironed in her dresser.

Thankfully I have managed to intersperse the shots with ginger ale so I’m not quite drunk. Just dull enough around the edges to give me the courage to do what needs to be done.

Sitting up, I catch her eyes.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She can read me like a book and yet she has no idea.

“I know Kalinda. I wish I could hate you and be done with it. I wish I had had the courage to confront you before you helped me. I wish I had not been so desperate and weak as to let you go on helping me beyond all reason or necessity. I think I‘ve used you, perhaps just as you used my husband.”

She is questioning her self now, a look I’ve never really seen on her face before.

“Now it’s too far gone. Despite myself, despite the armor of anger and rage I should have worn, you have pierced through it. I am as complicit as you , as much a hypocrite and liar. Worse maybe. I know you slept with my husband Kalinda. And I know why.”

Now there’s something I can read. Confusion, anger. Shock as her face bleeds white even as her neck flushes. Her mouth gapes for a moment before slamming shut then opening to speak- and my phone rings.

It’s Will. I stand to take the call as she stands bewildered. By the time the call is over she is gone, covering the tab with a few bills and vanishing so fast I expect a wisp of smoke. It really is tough luck that she gets the next call from Will. She is only half an hour behind me in arriving at Sweeney’s house.

A stone faced nod is all I need to understand.

_Later. And loud._

All those parts, those facets, all compartmentalized and organized into a neat little box named Kalinda. Or is it filed under Leela? I may never know and I surprise myself by wanting to know.

But for now she’s backing her friend Tony off as he questions me about the Tequila on my breath. I can see a pulsing vein in her neck as she rivets her attention on her friend. I idly wonder how friendly they are, but then again my shame at what I have done instead reminds me of stones and glass houses.

How Kalinda does her job has benefited me more than once. Judging her is well beyond me.

She already walking away as the police take Mr. Sweeney into custody, her heels marking the distance like blips on a sonar screen. I am left to watch them hustle my client away, too stubborn to turn and see her stalking out until I judge the steps to be out the door.

Had this been any other day, any other time, I know she would have been waiting for me with the car started. I am already dialing for a cab before I reach the elegant foyer of the Sweeny residence. She’s gone, just as I knew she would be.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------

Home again, I give the perfunctory kisses and hugs, citing a lack of energy at a trying few days. My children understand, I could do without the pointed gazes of my mother-in-law. Peter tries to be understanding and caring, all the while I wish he simply wasn’t here to see me like this. He even gives up his oh-so-sly attempts to bring himself closer to me. Slight lingering touches while pouring wine, brushes as he slips past to return dishes; all are absent tonight. He cooked, something he hadn’t done since that crappy apartment on 32nd. Other than grilling of course, something about men and fire. He’s trying to manipulate me by pointedly _Not_ manipulating me. It only reminds me of my own scheming and thus my self-loathing.

I go to bed early. Sleep comes fitfully, in bits and starts. When I finally dream, I remember the ice. A storm howls above it, a hurricane in force. The rain stains the ice crimson and I watch as the warmth melts down to me, a race between its’ warmth and the ice stealing it. I struggle away as it comes closer, my limbs batting my sheets away as I wake suddenly.

I tell myself that my shiver is just because I kicked the sheets off. I almost believe it by the time I get out of the steaming shower, my skin now only pink instead of the angry red it was only moments before. But I am more awake now, it only takes one cup of coffee to jolt my brain into starting.

So I can’t blame the tension in my body on caffeine as my fingers tap staccato beats on the steering wheel. A few cases need paperwork, which I hustle through with the help of my new assistant Courtney. I sometimes wonder if I should send Patti a thank you card when I see the young woman’s’ standard of excellence.

The paperwork allows my mind to wonder down crystalline passages, my own ice palace in place of the boxes I imagine for her. But still divided into rooms, still armored walls and locks to hide unpleasant truths behind.

I’ve seen her work, I’ve filled in some of her past with suppositions and guesswork that I imagine are little compared to the truth. This cold aloof exterior, mirroring the side most see from her; she has perfected it. I know how much it costs me to keep it, I was almost destroyed. She functions but now I can see the remote stillness she keeps at hand in all things.

What must she have been through to have built such defenses?

I try to bring back the angry fire, if only to get through my work, to stop the cycle of self-recrimination and doubt. It is a feeble thing now, still there because I know it should be rather than the living thing that the rage was. Should I mourn the loss?

I feel it again, a wave of warmth from outside. My imagination providing me with the comparison while my hearing warns of those drumming boots. I close my eyes, mapping them.

First to the partners offices, a few minutes in each to pass off progress reports. Then over carpet, a hush in conversations as she passes, like a bubble of silence floating through. To a few junior partners, giving and receiving updates and instructions, even through to a few assistants to check up on their charges. Kalinda pays attention to the assistants, she can measure the heartbeat of the firm by those harried men and women. So attuned am I that I can hear her pen as it taps to catch the attention of the receptionist. Then more beats, a little further apart. Longer strides. My heart speeds a few beats, which I calm. No need to show a blush.

_Think of the cold Alicia, reach for it. There it is._

The heat dies as her steps are deadened by the carpet. Just a few steps more. I stand, hoping that my eyes reflect the cold of her own level stare. Mirrors of mirrors we are.

A wave to Courtney, which she will assume means I’m going out to lunch. Beside her our strides match and I’m not sure if I shortened mine or she stretched just a little. I’ve never noticed before but she almost stomps the ground into submission as she moves in those butter soft leather boots. We are in the elevator, going up. Colder and colder, almost like going up a mountain but neither of us is breathing hard. I know that I’m keeping my attention on that reflex to keep it steady.

To all outward appearances she is collected and calm. The hairs on the back of my neck know otherwise. Her hands are flat, neither clasped to her side nor moving. A perfect stillness that is more telling to me in this moment than anything she has ever done. She’s a mystery to everyone, but I doubt that she is so to herself. She knows who she is, it’s what she’s grasping onto right now. The strength she used to escape wherever she came from serves her well behind the armor of her leather coat and pinned up helm.

I can read it, read her, because we are so well matched in this moment. The final ding, the doors open. There is a slight stutter in her step as she almost lets it out. But she senses something and continues on through the door to the roof access. A small part of me wonders if she unlocked the door before hand or if it’s simply always unlocked. But the doors’ state of being doesn’t matter to Kalinda; she could probably walk right through it with me following over the splintered remains. Stepping carefully, of course, my high heels not being as sturdy as the thundering soles she wears.

Outside now, with the gravel on the roof. It takes a brush the wind to ignite it, and then it explodes.

We struggle to keep it to civil tones, but that fight is over before the first words.

“Were you EVER REALLY my friend?!!!” We both scream, it is the question that cuts us both most deeply. The one that matters. All the other things that we could say, the justifications, apologies and accusations we could spout. None of them matter. The carefully rehearsed and practiced scripts written in lonely guilt-ridden hours, the constructed illusion of the Alicia that exists in her mind and the Kalinda that stands in mine are shattered. The pieces of each flying about in a fierce gust of anger and loss as we hurl them at one another like daggers.

“You slept with my HUSBAND!”

“I didn’t know you then!!!”

“You knew when I met you!”

“So did you,” she growls.

“Fine, I didn’t know YOU then either.”

A pause, a gasp for air and we continue.

Again, together, the same line. The same wounded tone.

“What was I supposed to do? ,” we scream as arms fly about like broken springs.

“Quit? I can’t quit. I’ve got nothing else.” I can feel my face burning at speaking this shame aloud

“So I should have quit? Left a job and position I built from nothing. Literally nothing!” Her hands brought together in a clap and then opened like a blank notebook.

“The nothing you BOUGHT from my HUSBAND!”

My hands almost fly to my mouth to try and stuff the words back in but she takes it with nary a pause.

And I know what’s next.

“I didn’t know you. But I knew THEM. And the price I paid was nothing compared to what I paid to survive before. NOTHING!”

Her finger points, the nail seeming to glint with the steel in her words as she stabs at me with them.

“And you LET me go on, you LET me in. You had a need and I filled it! Just like-”

She manages to cut herself off before finishing. I continue on, a cut now to bleed the poison.

“Just like you did with him.” I whisper the words and she reaches out to brush them away. I pull back. I deserve the sting.

Did my husband lie to me again amidst the truth he told? Did he want something else from this woman? No, I think not. He can want someone else, but he should have brought that want to me. She is alive in a way I’ve never seen and no doubt that was what drew him in as well. A moment of weakness not helped by a weak marriage.

She is shocked into silence, so I continue on. “Was it pity Kalinda? Did you pity the poor housewife forced to fend for herself after her husband’s transgressions? The one everybody KNOWS is just not enough woman for our GREAT States’ Attorney. ”

Her jaw is iron again but her eyes swim.

“No. NO! I-”

She swallows past something in her throat.

“I owed you. I didn’t know you then. You were just a housewife. You WERE. Then you were here, inside the life I built. And I couldn’t just ignore the consequences of my passing through your life. I owed you.”

“And now? Is it still just what you owe me Kalinda? You still just paying me back? Or was it something more to you?” I plead for an answer, a sign, anything.

 _Like it was to me_ , I whisper in my own head. She gives no answer, instead turning back to the door and marching away.

I can feel my streaming tears. She sheds none.

The tension, the ache of it is gone between us. There is now only a roaring nothingness.

She’s back through the door looking wrung out as I dab the wet away. In stoic silence we descend. She stands close enough to feel her heat through her coat, a few hairs out of her bun. I can see each breath as she takes air in deeply. Her small hands over her frame checking that all is in order echo my own. Our eyes don’t need to move, we can see in the mirrored elevator doors just fine.

 Normal human silence is beyond us. Most people have a need to fill even a few moments of it. Here we welcome it as we rearrange ourselves into the shapes we are expected to hold. The doors open at the final bell, she turns right as I move left. No looking back, the wide chasm between us serving dual purpose. It protects us from doing further harm and yet we stand on either side in plain sight, waiting.

The ice is gone from my side, fire has burned it away. The fire stirs a wind across the abyss, stirring Kalinda’s hair as she stands on the balcony of her ice palace. It dies out, leaving only ashes in the wind and rain from the sky.


End file.
